Collab with @lovecraft - my boo, we're back!
I'd started to enjoy the days when Warren was at the office with his father. My dad rarely demanded my help anymore. Normally, during a campaign, I'd be super busy as well, but I guess he just figured that I made out the wrong image for the message he wanted to send to his voters. Although to be honest (and my father would never admit this) I think mine and Warren's relationship helped on the poles. To see the parties cooperating, even if it's through us, was something the public liked to see. Plus, a little love story always helps.
And hell, I loved Warren. But it wasn't new and exciting and arousing anymore. It was our lives now and I felt like I lacked some excitement. I'd always filled my life with drama and fun and never settling down, but I did now. I did nothing. Really, all I had was my new boobs and they'd gotten boring as well (Warren didn't think so though).
Our morning ritual went like this: I wake up, put on my robe and go into the kitchen and makes coffee for us both. Warren wakes at the sound of our Nespresso machine, he showers and joins me in the kitchen where we drink our coffees together, he kisses me goodbye and says "I love you" before going off to the office. This morning was just the same.
"Don't you think our mornings look very much alike these days, babe?" I asked just before he got around to say his declaration of love. I hooked my thumb into the knot of my robe and undid it, letting it fall open and loosely around my shoulders, "I don't like it."
His eyes widened at the sight of my naked skin only covered by a lace bra that, to say the least, supported nothing at all. He sighed like he gave up and put down his suitcase next to him, "I thought we were having fun, playing house," he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in.
"We were. But a routine is a routine no matter how sweet," I replied. Shortly after his lips attacked mine. "Sex... won't... change... it!" I managed to breathe through his familiar, but oh-so-amazing kisses. I found myself undoing his tie and tossing it on the floor. Soon I found myself being tossed on our bed.
"I should be at the office in 10 minutes," he moaned while unhooking my bra and tossing it away.
"Then we'll just undo the things that need to be undone," I chuckled and unzipped his Armani pants.
"Why are you smiling?" he chuckled. He sat on the foot of our bed completely dressed. I stood up in front of him, butt-naked, and redid his Kenzo-tie. His hands were gently messaging my buttocks.
"I don't know," I lied not wanting to take the subject of conversation back to the routine-thing. He kissed my nipple gently making it impossible for me to make his tie perfect. "Baby, I can't help you when you do that," I said. It sounded a bit more harsh than I actually meant it to.
He pulled himself away form me like it was a struggle and said; "Fine. Do my tie," he tilted his head slightly back and straightened his back like a little school boy.
My smile turned into a pout, "I don't want any of us to give up on our lives."
"Hmm," he replied. I could tell by the wrinkles between his eyes, that he was thinking hard, trying to connect the dots.
He was entering a minefield now and he didn't even know it, "not necessarily. But I can't quite grasp your point. Are you unhappy?" and he got through the minefield perfectly. His hands moved upwards from my butt to the small of my back.
I sighed, "I don't want to /become/ unhappy."
The wrinkle between his eyes grew deeper, "is there something missing, then?" he kept guessing.
I took some time to make out a sentence that would make him least upset but also make it clear for him what I wanted, "I feel like the wife staying at home while the husband goes out to provide for the family - which is completely unnecessary as the family already is provided for through the money they get from their parents. I feel like my parents. My mom." I'd finished his tie and he stood up from the bed and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window. Although it was only a little past 9, the street was busy with people. Suits running late to work, mothers sending off their kids to school, tourists on a deroute...
"But we're not our parents," Warren replied coldly and collected.
"No, but I'm afraid of becoming them," suddenly I didn't feel comfortable about being naked anymore. The situation had gone from hot, arousing sex to a completely opposite ambiance. I picked up Warren's used shirt from last night. Although unable to button the area around my chest I felt more at ease.
He turned to look out of the window, "maybe it's because it's been a long time since I've seen a couple like the one you describe, but I... don't see how I can fix this," he turned around again and looked at me. This time he looked like the situation was hopeless.
"I don't NEED you to fix it," I spat back. He just didn't get it...
"But I'd rather shoot myself than know you're unhappy."
I made my way in between the window and his body, "but you're not singularly responsible for my happiness. All I ask is an open mind from you, and continuing to give me the respect you have so far," I caressed his face, his beard scripting me. He grabbed it and kissed it softly.
"Of course. You are stronger than any man I've ever met. I just want you to be happy, and I'm not using empty words when I say I'd do anything for you, but the campaign is in full swing, and I do have to go," he smiled and I felt that I didn't anymore.
"I love you," he planted a kiss on the side of my head, "I'll see you tonight."
He was the sweetest man on Earth. He must be. But sometimes I felt like he didn't understand anything. Nothing at all. I know it's campaign days and these days are crucial... Maybe I'm being unfair. "Love you, too," I replied back habitually. "See you then," I forced a smile to develop on my lips. I climbed back under the covers before he'd left the room. It'd upset him when I didn't kiss him one last time. He walked towards the door
unwillingly, turned around and looked and left